Summary: Romano kept pushing and Ludwig just kept pulling him closer until neither of them could deny the strong, burning attraction between them.

A/N: I decided to dedicate this little piece to ALittleEmotion because she is awesome~! I love Germano and if anyone has a problem with it then don't bother reading this because you're only hurting yourself.

"Back. Off."

Under the brim of his military hat, his brilliant blue eyes were narrow and angry. Ludwig's head cocked a little, an arrogant, combative tilt of his chin, then he put his right forefinger in the middle of Romano's chest.

"Make. Me."

Furious heat surged through his skin. Make him? God, how he wished he could! Frustration and fury filled the Italian's chest, almost smothering him. He couldn't budge the macho German an inch, and they both knew it.

Failing that, what he would most likely do was punch him in the jaw, but he wasn't stupid. The best that could come of that would be that Ludwig would have him arrested for assault, but Romano doubted the solution would even occur to him.

No, Ludwig would hand out the consequences himself, and even though Romano didn't know what form that would take he was absolutely certain he wouldn't like the result at all. Sometimes you just knew things about people, and he knew Ludwig was a stubborn jackass who would blow right pass good manners if he had a point he wanted to make.

Romano also should have known he'd dig in his heels.

Maybe the blonde had been more even-tempered, shy, gentle person growing up under Gilbert's care, but since being placed in a position of power he was known to be surly at best, and most times downright serious when it came to achieving his country's goals.

Maybe he had a reason to be a sorehead now, maybe he'd always been one. Either way, Romano had to deal with him as he was now, which was right in his face.

For a split second he weighed his choices as he stared up at the blonde, torn between all those conflicting emotions, then abruptly something inside him heaved a tiny sigh and gave up. He could hold onto his pride and disappear as fast as possible…

…or maybe not.

Because the bastard's lips looked so damn inviting.

And amazingly enough, Ludwig must have realized what he was staring at because the next thing Romano knew Ludwig was yanking him up to his level by his collar…and was pressing his cold lips against his own

The kiss was light and soft, cajoling instead of demanding, tender instead of intense. Romano tried to hold himself distant from it, to not respond—for about two whole seconds. Then the utter sweetness of the kiss, the temptation of it, completely swamped his willpower.

He felt the same way he did when he really, really wanted pasta but told himself no, then opened the cabinet and there it was, right in front of him, and he grabbed the box out and in three seconds seconds flat was eating the fattening food as if it were a gazelle and he a starving lion.

Like that.

He wanted the bastard like that.

The fierceness of the way he felt took him by surprise, because he'd never really lusted after anyone like this before. He'd have crushes, and he'd thought, would have sworn, that he'd loved Belgium, but he'd never before felt this ache to touch and be touched.

Then Ludwig was releasing him, a satisfied yet content smile on his lips as he drew Romano closer, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Do you…still want me to back off?"

"…"

"Romano?"

"…Just shut up and kiss me again you damn potato eater."

Sweet victory.

.

.

.

.

End.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.